


I Kinda, Sorta, Maybe, Fell in Love with You by Accident

by scottandstiless



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Anger, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Bi-Curiosity, Bisexuality, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Boyfriends, College, Dancing, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski in Love, Derek comes back for Stiles, Derek goes to prom, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Derek is a Softie, Derek never went to his own prom, Derek teaches Stiles how to slow dance, Don't Kill Me, Don't forget allison, End of Year, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay, Hale family - Freeform, Hale family History, Happy Stiles Stilinski, Hate Crime, High School, High school dances, Homophobia, Hospital, Humor, Kissing, Labels, Lol gotcha again, Lydia and Parrish go to Prom, M/M, Malia and Scott go to Prom, Marrish, Mentioned Kate Argent, Mexico, Moving Away, Nervous, Past Relationships, Past-Lydia romance, Pining Derek, Prom, Protective Derek, Romance, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Scalia, Season 6A plot, Season 6b Never happened, Senior year, Sex, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Slight Smut, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Sterek goes to prom, Sterek is end game, Stiles asks Derek, Stiles asks Derek to prom, Stiles helps Derek fix the house, Stiles is Legal, Stiles-centric, Stress, Texting, The feels, Top Derek, Violence, Virginity, Wolf Derek, boyfriend - Freeform, intimate, just kidding lol, possible triggers, pure fluff, seriously, slow dance, sterek, stiles is confused, warning, warning tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-03-24 15:18:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13813905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottandstiless/pseuds/scottandstiless
Summary: When Derek left to Mexico, he developed feelings for Stiles, who a) is underage and b) the son of the sheriff. It’s basically having a target up his ass. It just happens to be prom season when Derek comes back to let Stiles know, now that he’s 18.–It's Senior year, almost graduation time. Prom season. Season 6B never happened. Lydia is still with Parrish. Scott's with Malia. And Stiles? Well he's just craving.-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Back with another cute Sterek drabble :) I'll try to continuously update and keep up with my other pics as well. Sorry for the ridiculous amount of mistakes, this is un-beta'd. Once I figure out how, I'll start dropping some art to go along with it!
> 
> \--  
> Disclaimer: I do not own or have discretion of any characters, plots, images, etc directly affiliated and copyrighted by MTV's Teen Wolf and creator Jeff Davis. All this written for sole purpose of personal use and entertainment, non-profit.

“I thought you would’ve asked Lydia. I mean, with the whole Malia thing and-” Scott spoke quietly to his doe-eyed best friend as they came out of the locker room, their lacrosse bags slung over one shoulder and a bookbag on the other. 

“Scott I told you, it’s just not gonna happen, man. Plus- you don’t have to be supernatural to figure she’s got the hots for deputy Babyface.” Stiles snarked as they got into his beloved blue jeep that lovely ass Tuesday afternoon. Everything’s going well, besides the whole _disappearing for half a year_ think, the crew is finally looking forward the end of their high school senior year. And with that comes two things: graduation, and more importantly, _prom_. 

Ah yes, prom. An American travesty where it costs the same as your monthly house rent, just to slap on a dress for one night and have sex and get drunk after just for you to regret it all. Kidding. Guys. Seriously, I’m kidding. Maybe. Either way, everyone seems to have their shit together except for Stiles.

Stiles cringed when thinks about the time that his best friend asked him if he was okay with him taking his ex to the event. Shudders are sent throughout his body, and then nausea proceeds to course his stomach and intestines. His hands were up in surrender, giving him grace to do so as long as he doesn’t talk about what they _do_. 

“Besides, I’ll probably just chill at the station to distract my dad from busting all the afterparties.” Stiles chuckled to himself as he drove home with Scotty.

The werewolf gave him a grin, “not happening. You’re going. Besides- you could probably find a date if you wanted.” 

“I’m not gonna settle for less Scotty. I’m not exactly a partying guy anyways. Kinda can’t breathe often at those type of things.” 

Truth be told, Stiles wasn’t thinking about girls. He could obviously get a girl if he really wanted, hell he could just show up by himself for all he cares. But there’s some part of him that wants a certain someone. He just doesn’t realize that that feeling is what that is. Of course, ask him in sophmore year who he would see himself going with and it probably would be a hopeless attempt at throwing himself at a strawberry blonde. Now that his obsession was something he had, but realized not what he wanted, Stiles is looking for something a little more.. filling per se. 

“So where’s Derek at nowadays?” Stiles broke a silence he didn’t realize had come while he was thinking and entire scenario out in his head.

So yes, it’s true. He’s been thinking about Derek a lot lately. And quite frankly, he’s never really taken the time to fully analyze his emotions. Maybe he’s got a crush on the dude, or maybe he’s just genuinely missing an old friend. Either way, Stiles hasn’t forgotten the brooding alpha wolf. He longs to see Derek around again, and how he’d kill just to get scolded by him like the good old days. He hasn’t forgotten his icy words that melted as soon as they rolled off his tongue. He hasn’t forgotten the 5 o’clock shave that gracefully framed his chiseled jawline, and those brisk but soft, soft pleading lips.. 

“What?” Stiles snapped out of it again. 

“I said,” Scott re-iterated, “last I heard of the Hale pack is somewhere back in California.” 

“ _What?_ ” Stiles almost stopped the car too abruptly as he came to a turn. 

His best friend’s eyebrows drew, “Stiles it’s not like we need him or anything. I mean, things are pretty calm nowadays.”

Stiles scoffed, pursing his lips, “yeah I don’t- i don’t know, you would think we would hear from the guy. Haven’t seen him since he left to Mexico..” his voice seemed to drone out as Scott continued talking. Thoughts took over as he reminisced over the older brooding man. Stiles remembered how weird he felt seeing Derek’s initials at the library on Senior Night. It was weird thinking that Derek was once a loving teenager too. He always wondered whether he was one of those school-driven kids with perfect grades and an impeccable record, or was caught smoking in the bathroom. He recalled a certain name, Paige, being the only person Derek’s truly loved. It’s odd matching human emotions to this wolf that threatened to rip out Stiles’ throat so many times. Stiles remembered how —disheartened and scared— he felt when Derek told him to take care of everyone before staying in Mexico with Braeden. That was the first time Stiles really _felt_ for the man. Of course at that time it was both awkward and illegal, considering he was 22 and Stiles was the fragile age of 17. And to think, he’s denied ever having feelings for him because frankly it was a new concept to Stiles. He’s always loved Lydia, and he’s always loved Malia. He’s always thought of losing his virginity to a girl, which he did just to prove his theory. 

“And you’re still not listening.” Scott murmured, bringing Stiles back, who had happened to miss the turn to Scott’s house. 

“Sorry man, just got a lot on my mind lately.” 

“Like... Derek?” Scott asked, his eyebrows furrowing curiously. 

Stiles stammered, feeling his cheeks go rouge, “n-no, like-“ Scott could hear his heart beating faster and faster every time he mentioned the man’s name, “college and my dad and s-stuff you know? Adult stuff? Like man can you believe we’re gonna go our separate ways? This whole school thing was totally rigged.”

Scott smiled impishly as Stiles threw him a glance , “stop! Stop that— I know you’re doing your—your creepy heart thing.”

“You miss Derek.” He taunted.

“I do not! And frankly dude, I’m kinda insulted you think I would miss that infuriating, brooding, mind-twisting-“ Stiles could list on and on. Really.

Scott’s grin got bigger, “it’s cute.”

“Scotty it is not cute! I am being so serious right now I do not miss freaking Derek Hale.” Stiles would be growling right now if he could as he playfully punched Scott in the arm.

“So is that why you keep mentioning his name? And if I called him right now it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world?”

Stiles huffed, his face turning red from embarrassment, “Do it. See if I care you ass. I don’t care. About him.” 

“If you say so..” Scott dialed the phone number, and put on the speaker, only to his pleasure, Derek picked up.

”Hello?” Stiles’ heart fucking dropped into his stomach as his eyes widened. 

”Derek! Hey man, what’s up?”

“Uhh... the usual. Is something going on or-“

“No- no everything is-“ he looked up at Stiles, who looked like he was on the verge of bursting into tears, “everything’s perfect. So listen, where in the world are you right now? Just ya know.. wanted to see what’s good.”

“Actually this isn’t a totally inappropriate time to call, I’m on my way to Beacon Hills right now.”

“Oh really?” Scott was trying not to laugh at the fact that his best friend broke into a sweat, watching Stiles whisper to him “hang up! Hang up!” 

“Yeah, got some family business to do, figured I should start doing something about the house. Maybe get back to my loft. Gonna be sticking around for a while.” His voice almost sounded, happy, to be back home. Maybe Mexico and everything else was a bust. 

“Alright, well- we’ll catch you later man, let  
Me know when you’re in town. We can get the whole pack together one last time.” Scott suggested before Derek agreed. “See you.” Stiles literally pounced onto Scott and physically ended the call himself. 

“Jesus.” Stiles huffed. “I hate you- you know that? I hope your kids and your kids’ kids and their kids all hate you as well.” 

Scott chuckled at the threat, amused that he finally made Stiles realize what they all knew. Now, he just needs him to admit it. “Well, Derek’s coming home. We’re graduating. All the loose ends are coming to a tie.” 

“You know you can tell me anything right?” Scott resonated in a serious, firm timbre.

Stiles nodded, “thanks for the let know, not like I spent the last eighteen years dumping all my shit on you or something,” a nervous chuckle broke in.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Scott grabbed his bag as he got out of the blue Jeep. He hung out by the open window as he spoke, “I think you should go for it. You might be surprised..” he watched Stiles fumble around with his hands and playing around with his tongue in his cheeks nervously. “See you tomorrow dude.” Scott gave him a wave as he headed inside his house. 

“Shit.” Stiles whispered, subtlety throwing his head black against the car seat before driving off. Last time he drives Scott home while his bike’s in the shop.

Stiles was only down the street when he realized he has never been able to stop thinking about Derek. And it pains him that they could never be together. It doesn’t help that Stiles doesn’t know what he wants either. Sometimes he wished he could just go right out and be like, “hey, I think you’re real cute and I sort of like you maybe, so date me?” After all, if all things go to hell, he’s on his way to George Washington across the country anyways. 

He’s in bed that night when Scott texts him, telling him Derek’s home. 

_Did you know?_

_Stiles, we all knew._

_What about Derek?_

_No, but nothing asked can hurt._

_What if he doesn’t like me back?_

_Then we go to college._

_…_

_The fact that you’re over Lydia for him says something._

_OK stop having fun with this._

Stiles peered over his blanket in bed when his bedroom door creaked open, allowing Noah’s face to come to light. “Hey kiddo. In bed already?”

Stiles got up, “yeah, big test tomorrow, thought I’d uh, catch some z’s. Kinda tired.” He said plainly. The only reason why he was in bed so early was because he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep tonight because he’d be thinking of a certain blue-eyed werewolf too much. His logic was that if he was in bed at ten p.m., then he should be asleep by midnight at the latest. 

Noah’s face wrinkled as he smiled at his son, proud of where he’s come to. Stiles was waiting for his father to leave but as soon as he made a move, another thought come out of the sheriff before closing the door, “um son,” Noah stepped out from the doorway, “someone stopped by at the station looking for you.” 

Stiles’ heart was racing. He furrowed his brows in a pretend-curiosity. 

“Yeah um, Derek’s back home. Just thought you should know.”

Stiles grinned, his face blushing before he caught himself and forced the happiness out of his system, “Derek was looking for me? Derek Hale? As in _I-moved-to-freaking-Mexico Derek Ha-_ ”

The sheriff chuckled, “yep, seemed pretty excited too.” The sheriff sighed as he started to back out of the room, “well I’ll let you get back to your sleep, I’ll be running a late shift tonight so if I don’t see you tomorrow morning then good luck on your test kiddo!” He gave his son a smile and good-hearted good night, allowing Stiles to return to the comfort of his bed. 

He rolled on his side, grabbed his phone and clutched his pillow so hard as he smiled painfully. 

_  
Guess what._

_What? You are ready to confess you love Derek?_

_What? NO… Okay maybe a little._

_: )_

_My dad just told me Derek stopped by the station today._

_AND?_

_He was looking for me._

_Dude._

_No stop, don’t jinx it._

_When’s the wedding?_

_Good night Scott. ._

__

Stiles turned off his phone after setting an alarm, but didn’t expect himself to fall asleep. As he suspected, he’s got too much of Derek in his system now. He’s craving him more than ever. So badly he wanted to know what he looked like once again without his shirt on, for he hasn’t seen that since the sophomore year. He can just imagine his perfectly chiseled abs, and his glistening white smile that taunted him. Not to mention his nether regions. Stiles just could imagine being swept away by those strong, muscular arms, but also of how cuddly and totally kissable the werewolf could be. He was up for at least an hour before a thought struck him, as he pulled his phone out again. 

To: _Derek_  
_Hey. Heard you’re back in town._

Disheartened when there was no automatic reply, Stiles turned it off. Besides, who knows- Derek probably changed numbers or something and Scott just happened to have it. Or he’s asleep, or maybe he’s on a run, or you know what? Maybe he’s–

It was only a few minutes until Stiles’ heart jumped at the _ding_ of his phone. 

_Hey. Yeah. Been meaning to talk to you.  
Oh cool. Me too._

_Alright, well I guess we should make that happen._

_I guess we should._

And Stiles’ body succumbed to sleep before he could even finish the conversation.


	2. Storm Brewing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i was going to make some art for this but i a) got lazy, b) couldn't get my programs to work, so i'll try again soon.

“You seem awfully happy for a school morning,” The sheriff smiled at his son who happened to be gleaming bright and early. He caught Stiles off guard who was humming a tune, his phone desperately clinging to him. 

“Huh?” He glanced, grabbing a cup of coffee, “since when did you get here?”

“Good morning to you too. Your heavy sleeping, plus my all access, vip keys to my own home equals around 2 in the morning.” Noah chuckled, sipping his own coffee, “no wonder we have security cameras. You’d sleep through the entire robbery.”

“Ha-ha, and if they happen to wake me up, maybe I’ll just look for the money with them since I can never find any.” 

The older man’s laughter continued, “that son- is called a job— and speaking of which, maybe the station could use some of your help?” 

“You mean like solve cases and murders and take down bandits like the super sleuth I am?” His eyes widened. 

“More like file and organize like the smart kiddo you are.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Soon I’ll be in college dad, somewhere far- far away from the hellhole that is Beacon Hills, and before you shame me on leaving you here-“ 

“You’re not gonna leave without tying some loose ends are you?” Noah put down his cup. If that was some sexual innuendo, Stiles didn’t want to hear it coming from his father. 

“Jesus Christ why does everyone in this god forsaken world know who I’ve got the hots for except for the guy I’ve got the hots for!” Stiles threw his hands up in frustration. 

The sheriff almost spit his coffee. 

“Well apparently not everyone.” He glared his son down with an impish son, who’s face had turned as red as a tomato. “Guy? Stiles I didn’t know- I mean you’ve never told me- I mean- was I suppose to figure it out?” The sheriff froze for second to think, “well actually- now that I think about it..”

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows and made a face at his father, “uhh you know Dad I really-really gotta get to school- big, big test—“

“Uh bup bup,” Noah stopped him at the door, pulling him by the tag of his backpack. “Stiles. Son. Is this why Derek’s home?” 

“D-Derek? Who said anything about Derek?” His voice got shaky and seemed to increase an octave, “w-whaaaat? Derek’s home?” 

“Well let’s see. Up until now you’ve been with Malia, and then Lydia. Maybe. I don’t know teenagers, but I mean Stiles— Derek Hale? I’ve never really seen you connect with anyone else more than him. Used to scare the hell out of me to be honest.” 

Stiles felt his cheeks go red.

“You’re blushing.” 

Stiles whacked his father playfully in the arm, “Dad stop!” 

Noah gave him a sincere smile, “alright kiddo, why don’t we talk after school?”

Stiles started to leave, “perhaps not Daddi-o. There shall be no talking of this whatsoever.” He waved goodbye before he found himself opening the door to his Jeep, only to let out a very _manly_ shriek. “Jesus fucking Christ Scott!”

“Sorry. Bike’s still in the shop. Also- you should probably lock your car more often.” He flashed a toothy grin. The werewolf smiled as Stiles got in, turning on the ignition. “So.. you and your dad seemed to have a pretty filling conversation.” 

“Stop listening in you weirdo. That’s basically breaking and entering in some states.” Stiles snarked. They both got to school one piece that morning, despite the fact that Stiles couldn’t focus all the day. 

 

 

“So Stiles, figured out Prom plans?” Lydia’s sweet voice echoed in his ears, despite the fact that she had to repeat herself to break him from his trance. Her fork poked at her food as she awaited an answer. 

“He’s taking Derek-“ Scott smiled, watching his best friend’s cheeks blush.

“Wait—! Really? Derek’s home?” 

Scott nodded, “we’re all hanging out soon.”

Stiles smacked the werewolf in the arm, “Stop telling people that! We aren’t- I’m not asking Derek to prom,” Stiles said with a flushed face. 

Scott stifled his laughter as did Lydia and Malia, watching Scott nod his head. 

The day passed on normally. Stiles goofed off a little in calculus, he and Scott tormented Lydia in Anatomy, and then reminisced the good old days as they had Coach for a substitute teacher in business class. The young men were on their way out of school as the bell rang, walking towards Stiles’ blue Jeep as they noticed a shadow. Scott has suddenly froze, finding his feet unable to move. 

“Anyways— So she was all like-“ Stiles had been describing a delicious story over an encounter with a girl he had today until he glanced at Scott. “Scott?” The boy was beckoned to look in front of him. 

Suddenly, Stiles couldn’t breathe.

“Is that-“

“Derek.” 

The older male was leaning against the car, with a brooding face as usually, and well— damn. He looked _fine_ as hell. His gray khakis sat against the blue of the Jeep, and his black Henley perfectly defined his chest. And out of all that could’ve described a 13 year old girl going through an emo phase (Mol I swear it wasn’t one), Stiles had noticed the sharp pale, ice blue-green eyes. He didn’t need supervision to notice them. Stiles couldn’t help but think of what God was thinking about when he made the magnificent creature that was Derek Hale. 

“Why is he here?” Stiles asked frantically, “no—! No, no Scott he can’t be here! I can’t see him! Not like this! I can’t-“

“Stiles shut up man! Relax!” Scott smiled. “Didn’t you say he wanted to see you?” The teen put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Stiles- he likes you, I can just tell. And you like him. So maybe you two should talk.”

Stiles pursed his lips as he rolled his eyes, “—oh my god! You did this.” 

Scott bit his lip in excitement and with happy eyes until Stiles physically hid behind his best friend. “Stiles! He already saw you man!”

“No he didn’t, he saw some random brunette teenager walking out of a high school.”

Scott shook his head as he waved out, “hey Derek!” He stepped to the right, exposing the young man. 

Suddenly, Derek was a few steps from them. “Hey Scott..” he twisted to find Stiles, “Hey Stiles. 

“D-Derek, what’s up? What’s going on, what uh- what are you doing back home?” Stiles rambled in a totally unsuspicious way. 

Derek smiled, flashing his bunny toothed grin that Stiles loved so freaking much. He just wants to give him the biggest hug on earth. “Just came back to tie up some loose ends, visit the house..” he spoke.

Scott patted on the back, “see you Stiles.” 

“W-what? Dude I’m your ride!” Stiles threw his hands up. 

“Nope. Malia is,” Scott three him a cheerful grin, knowing exactly what was going on here. 

Stiles could suddenly feel his face burning. I mean, he hasn’t freaking seen the guy in a year, and he just decides to show up out of the blue? “How was Mexico?” Nerves racked his voice. 

“Let’s just say I won’t be going back there for a while,” Derek chuckled as Stiles let out a forced laugh. He knew that Derek had gone to search for the Desert Wolf with Braeden, “after we found her, I attended to some family matters of a rogue pack that was circulating the area. So I decided to come back to finish up my own family business here.” Stiles threw his hand awkwardly to the nape of his neck, knowing Derek was definitely listening into thunderstorm of his heart beating. An awkward pause lingered before Derek broke silence, “Stiles, listen, that’s... that’s not the only reason why I came back.” 

Stiles felt his throat go dry, waiting for the inevitable words to come out of his mouth, but Stiles couldn’t get himself to get through it, “I’m sorry Derek- I- I have to go,” he whispered as he ran a hand through his hair and basically _ran away_ from Derek Hale. 

He left Derek hanging high and dry that afternoon. 

Stiles slammed his door as he got into his blue  
Jeep. “Damn it!” He slammed his steering wheel. He had it. He had _him_. Derek was at the grasp of his fingertips, and like grains of sand he just let him slip. Stiles doesn’t know what he wants. He wants Derek, but does he want everything that comes with him? Does he want to throw himself into a life of danger, does he want to fall in love with a guy who’s half a decade older than him? Does he want to be with someone who’s definitely had more experience than he has, and subject himself to it? Stiles doesn’t know what he wants. On the other hand, he was also somewhat angry for the fact that Derek _just_ came back. He was upset that Stiles was pushed over and invalidated of his feelings, forced into thinking Derek was cheating death on Guantanamo Bay. It’s whatever. 

 

Stiles threw his backpack on his bed when he got home, flopping miserably onto it as he went to text Scott who left him several messages.

_I officially hate you._

_Why? What’d Derek say?_

_It’s what he didn’t say_

_???????_

_He was about to tell me why he came back from Mexico._

_Family stuff?_

_He said he had one more reason._

_YOU?_

_Guess we’ll never know, I fled before he could get a word in edgewise._

_Stiles!!!! He is so into you dude! You’re into him!! Why can’t you just let it happen._

_How can HE be into ME. This entire day was a bust. See you tomorrow_

_... this isn’t over._

_Yes it is.  
Stop interfering with my love life before I personally tie your Wolfy tail to the staircase railing. _

_Leave your kinkyness for Derek._

_BYE Scott._

 

Stiles huffed. He felt so incredibly unfulfilled in his life. Scrolling through his texts from the night prior, the teen just wished he had stayed and listened to Derek. Who knows? Maybe he wasn’t going to say _”I came for you Stiles.”_ Maybe they just thought wrong. He didn’t regret leaving though, because it was obvious Derek could clearly smell the arousal off the horny half-adult/half-boy. He spent the rest of the afternoon sulking in his mood, feeling guilty and sorry for himself before he decided to get his shit together. At the same time, his dad had come home. 

“Hey Stiles. How was school?” Noah had just taken off his jacket that night and just wanted to sit down for a few minutes and detox. 

“It was okay.” He shrugged. 

The sheriff furrowed his brow, “just _okay_?” 

“Yes Dad it was good! It was great! You know I think-“ his arms had traveled into the air ecstatically, “hell, I think it was the best darn tootin’ day of my life!” He smiled unamused.

Sheriff Stilinski made a face at his rebuttal, listening to Stiles apologize for his bursting. “So I take it it’s going well with Derek?”

Stiles gave him a glare. 

He put his hands up in defeat, “Don’t forget I was a teenager once too.”

“Pfft, oh yeah what millennia was that?”

Ignoring his comment, the sheriff went on, “things wouldn’t go well with your mom, actually, and I’d just come home mad at the world.” Stiles’ snark turned into a small grin once he was reminded his father and his mother were high school sweethearts. “I remember I was going to ask her to the Winter Ball in sophmore year, I even made this huge elaborate proposal, it was so clever! Then as soon as I saw her, I freaked out and bailed.” The sheriff smiled too as he reminisced about his good old days, telling Stiles to take advantage of opportunities given to him. Despite being very inspirational, it made Stiles a little uneasy and depressed, because his parents could have had it all. They were so damn in love with each other, fawning over themselves wherever they went, a certain light shining in their eyes. And then the disease consumed his mother, spiraling her into her own suicide, and suddenly the light went out. They had it all. They should’ve had it all. Noah had no regrets, because he knew they took advantage of the time they had together. “You know I’m here to talk kiddo. If this is want you want and it keeps you happy, then I will support you all the way.” 

Stiles had an epiphany as it hit him, grabbing his keys, “I gotta.. gotta do something.” He leapt at the door but stopped, “..thanks dad.” He left after his father told him to stay safe on the roads because of the rain.

So it was eight at night when Stiles asked Scott if Derek was staying at his loft. It was raining, completely drenching Stiles just on the way to his car. And he was going into this half-assed Plan, having no idea of what Derek would say or if he is even home. 

Stiles was in a whirlwind of emotions, picturing Derek in his head as he drove, only to destroy his blissful thoughts as his beloved jeep started to sputter.

“What? NO. _No. No, no, no, no–this literally only friggin’ happens to me, what the fuck!_ ” Stiles cursed, hearing the merciful cries that was his engine’s shutting down. The hard splats of rain hitting taunted him as he swore. He couldn’t even bother with getting down to fix the damn car, because it was too fucking dark and too fucking rained on. Desperate times called for desperate measures as Stiles set out to walk on foot about three miles to Derek’s loft. The fact that Stiles was almost to his destination, it was as if the entire universe was mocking him. Of course, the one time Stiles’ needs to get somewhere, and isn’t running away from supernatural baddies, California decides to have a frigid June monsoon. Okay. Cool. 

And it was eight at night when Stiles, drenched in rain and cold to his core, (he swore he caught a cold, but he can’t tell whether it’s snot running down his nose, rain, or his tears), knocked on Derek Hale’s door. By the time Derek had thankfully opened the door, Stiles had been huffing and puffing, out of breath and unable to warm his body despite it being warm rain. The fabric of his light sweatshirt clung to him uncomfortably, and his head became heavier to keep up as his hair absorbed all the unforgiving weather. 

“Stiles–” Derek’s eyes immediately widened, a certain shock tainting his voice. 

Stiles didn’t have time to spare as he immediately blurted, “Derek. Why’d you come back? _Why’d you leave Mexico?”_ Pants and gasps for air threatened his respiratory system. Derek could hear his heart beating seventy miles an hour. 

Derek furrowed his brows, the exhaustion and poor weather had clearly taken a toll on Stiles.   
“You’re here, Stiles,” He said shocked. “And drenched.” The disbelief took in, and after today, Derek was sure Stiles probably hated him. Stiles was sure he was going to faint right then and there, and not because of his exhaustion, but because Derek Hale was wearing _only_ sweatpants. It was like seeing Adonis in his purest form.

“Derek, please, just answer the question, okay? Because I can’t just keep hoping for something that may never come, and I can’t keep feeling sorry for my ass because I never chased after what I wanted,” the teenager huffed, his arms crossed against his lean torso.   
Trying to catch his breath, “I’m sorry I didn’t know if you were here or not and I didn’t know if I should’ve called or texted or something or I don’t know I felt really bad after today and my car broke down and I just ran three miles in the pouring rain and–”

Derek said calmly as his lips curved into a genuine smile, “Stiles, I-I came back for you.” Derek interrupted in a sheepish manner, and Stiles swore he could see a tiny portion of him trying to blush. But did Derek Hale just say he came back for Stiles Stilinski? “You were rambling.” 

“I’m sorry.” Stiles literally could not breathe. _I’m sorry did Derek HALE seriously just?–_

“Don’t apologize. It’s cute.”

This is it. This all Stiles Stilinski wanted. Stiles couldn’t help but stare at this blue-green eyes, his teeth chattering. He didn’t know what to do now, I mean, he got his answer right? And it was the right one too– so what now? Stiles froze, watching the werewolf hold his hand out, suggesting he took it. “So are you just gonna freeze in the rain or you wanna come in?”

So many thoughts were racing in the human’s head. 

_Did macho, growling, alpha shifting, I’m-gonna-rip-your-throat-out Derek freaking Hale just call me cute?_

Derek brought him in, starting a new fire in the fireplace as he looked for something for Stiles to changed in. It’s been a while since he and the pack had been in the Loft, and it’s always been some sort of a foreign land, but Stiles feels as if it’s a home. Stiles realized he was literally dripping wet in the middle of the space, apologizing profusely to Derek who would eventually have to clean up the mess. 

“Stiles’ don’t worry about, it’s just water.” He gave him a warm smile. What Stiles didn’t realize was that Derek was jumping to the moon and back, because he’s wanted this just as much, and finally– they can have it. “I grabbed some clothes but you’re– you must be so cold so I thought you might want a hot shower,” Derek stated after running the warm water in the bathroom. In his hands were sweatpants, boxers, and definitely one of his warm henleys. 

_I’m in Derek Hale’s house. About to take a shower. And then wear his clothes._

Stiles thanked him and suddenly was frozen. He legs were jelly and had officially lost power over them. God, he just can’t believe it’s happening. It’s like having a more external feeling of butterflies in his stomach. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Derek said, noticing his heart racing again. 

“That’s not fair. You can’t use your wolfy hearing on me.” Stiles babbled to hide himself, only to find Derek’s hands had wrapped around him. 

“Let me help you relax then,” he smiled, his fingers trailing and dancing Stiles’ hip bones. Stiles swore he was going to lose it then and there. Of course he worried that he was wet, but it had only induced more of a sensation when Derek’s warm strong hands made contact with Stiles’ cool skin. It felt like drinking hot cocoa on a cold winter day. Derek couldn’t help but stare into the teenager’s eyes, memorizing every detail of his honey brown irises. “I missed your eyes in Mexico,” Derek ran his thumb above Stiles’ brow as a bead of rain water dripped. “And I missed your constant, never ending talking,” Stiles heard him say as he felt Derek unzipping and then pulling the soaked sweatshirt off his shoulders, where it’s tossed on the floor. “I missed the way you would just get everyone’s attention, because no one was there to grab mine.” 

Stiles chucked softly, biting his lip as he felt Derek’s hands traveling underneath his shirt and then pulling it off, “that’s called being annoying back in the states.” 

“Well if that’s what that is then I really, really like annoying.” Derek’s grin got bigger. 

Stiles could feel his face burning hot red, and suddenly, there were water stains down his cheek. And they weren’t from the rain. 

Startled, Derek’s face contorted into concern, _”are you crying?_ Stiles are you hurt?” His eyes turned big. 

“No- no I’m fine- I don’t know why-“ Stiles rubbed the tears away as he started to chuckle again, “I just— I thought you died or something over there Derek. I was so- so worried I was never going to ever see you again.” He explained as Derek pulled him in tight, his hand rubbing circles in the small of Stiles’ back, while the other furrowed through Stiles’ wet hair. “I was so lost because I never told you how I felt. This doesn’t feel real.” And the teenager swore he felt a kiss on the top of his head.

“Stiles this is so, incredibly real.” 

Derek Hale gives the best hugs. 

As they pulled away, Stiles’ eyes darted from his eyes to Derek’s _totally_ kissable lips. “Oh god I’m a mess–” Stiles said in a light hearted tone, stopping himself from pouncing on the guy. 

“Stiles just stop talking.”

He so badly wanted to say _make me_.

Doesn’t matter, Derek went in for the kiss anyways.

And there weren’t any fireworks, or birds whistling, no extra dramatic whirling of the room, no cheers or ballad playing off in the distance. 

Just Derek, Stiles, and the comfort of the silence.

And that’s all they really needed. It came in surprise, slow, but then all at once, as if it were a building Tsunami wave and it just fucking crashed all over the teenager. He was drowning, but in a good way, as if there’s any good way to drown. Stiles never wanted Derek’s lips not on him, ever. And after this, he’s not sure he’s going to be able to keep his hands off the poor man. For a brooding and gloomy man, Derek Hale kisses like nothing else. The feeling of his lips were like sunday mornings. 

As they pulled away, Derek grabbed his thumb again at the tears and gladly wipe them away. “I-I think I’ll take your offer up on the shower.” 

So now, Stiles Stilinski was taking an extremely warm shower in Derek Hale’s loft. The feeling of warm water heating Stiles’ cold skin had replicated the werewolf’s touch. When he was done, he was wiggling his legs into _Derek Hale’s_ sweatpants. And then he pulled his head through _Derek Hale’s_ henley. _And everything smelled so damn good._

He crept out into the hallway, noticing Derek in the kitchen, and he swore he smelled heaven. 

Maybe this turned out to be an okay day.


	3. What Are We?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So sorry this took absolute forever. Hope you are all doing well :)

“Stiles, there’s a horrible storm all night- I don’t want you driving out there.” The sheriff’s voice droned on the phone. 

“Dad I’m fine, I’m staying over Scott’s for the night if that’s okay,” Derek heard Stiles’ heart skip a beat as he spoke, indicating the lie. 

“Okay kiddo, I’m working the late shift anyways. Get to school on time tomorrow.”

Stiles smiled, “Goodnight Dad,” he said before hanging up as he texted Scott to perform a cover up in case his dad asks. 

“Did you just lie to your dad?” Derek’s eyebrow tossed as the corners of his mouths curled. 

Stiles glanced, “don’t judge me. You caused this.” 

Derek tossed more wood into the fire, before dragging Stiles to the couch. “You’re still cold.” 

“I’m a pretty decent temperature actually,” he smiled as Derek’s hand rubbed against his. Suddenly Stiles found himself literally on top of Derek, who nuzzled the teen with precious kisses. Broad strong hands caressed through his hair, ruffling and tossing the brunette strands. 

“Okay kiddo.” Derek joked.

Stiles pulled his lips off Derek, “ew– I don’t want to be thinking about my dad as I kiss an extremely hot guy.” 

“So you think I’m hot?” 

Stiles pecked his cheek, a sudden drive taking forth. Derek could physically feel the want fuming off Stiles, and it drove him crazy. The teen let out a moan when he thrust his mouth, brushing noses together as he felt Derek’s hands up his shirt. 

The young man froze again, his teeth threatening to tear at his lips. 

“-Sorry..” Derek apologized immediately, “I’m sorry if this is too fast.” The fast panting of Stiles’ broke Derek out of a lust Filled trance. 

“No- no—“ Stiles’ cheeks were red, his heart racing. “I want to-,” hesitation threatened him, fear of rejection threatened him. Derek then leaned in and gave him another soft kiss, one that was more comfort and reassurance than it was lust.

Stiles smiled. Of course he wanted to— but he was afraid of where they’d end up. The only person he’d sexually been with was Malia, and he’s afraid of disappointing Derek. Regardless, he persisted. Soon, Stiles’ long fingers plucked at Derek’s own shirt, throwing themselves into a steamy pursuit. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Stiles. Stiles.” Derek whispered into the boy’s ears, his bare skin touching that of Derek’s. “Stiles–”

“W-what? Who’s dead?” He jumped off the werewolf, ready for combat as he despised the sticky feeling that lingered on his chest of sweat. 

“No one– school- you’re gonna be late.” 

“Shit.” Stiles cussed when he realized class would start in 30 minutes. Thoughts raced in his head, noticing he had fallen asleep on top of Derek hale. 

“Slow down, you’ll get dizzy–” Derek warned him as the boy bolted for his clothes to change. 

Stiles found his khakis and shirt neatly folded on the table besides him as he felt the unusually empty pocket. 

_”Shit. My car.”_ Stiles huffed, his hand brushing off the sticky hair that stuck to his forehead, “oh my god it’s still outside.” Adrenaline burst through as he realized he still needed to grab his stuff back home. 

“Stiles–” Derek grabbed onto his arm, “Slow down. I already got your car taken care of, got some guys to take it down to the shop.”

Stiles took a minute, “you’re- you’re actually the best, oh my god.”

Derek gave him a smile, “if you get dressed and shower quick enough I can drive you home to grab your things and then to school.” 

It wasn’t until Scott had been causing a surge of vibrations towards Stiles’ phone when he finally processed everything. Stiles felt like he was just drunk off love right now, not being able to remember much before the kissfest he had with Derek. 

_  
Dude where are you?  
Still off with your boyfriend???????  
_

Stiles was about to connive a wity reply but was simply in too good of a mood for him to have even a negative ounce in his body. 

_Running late. Save my seat._

And it wasn’t until Stiles found himself sitting in an all-too familiar camaro passenger seat with a bagel and coffee Derek got for him that the boy had gotten himself together. Thank god he had managed just to get his pants on the right way. 

Soon, Stiles was in and out of his house with his backpack. Luckily, the sheriff wasn’t home so he now has time to devise a story as to where his jeep as mysteriously disappeared to. Now, to school. 

“Stop thinking.” Derek had said as he started to drive off his street. It was a few minutes of silence that brought this forth. Derek glanced at him after adjusting the rear view mirror. He couldn’t help but stare at Stiles through it as he attempted to quickly memorize every single mole freckle thing on his face. 

“Hmm?” A portion of bagel had muffled Stiles as he spoke. 

“Your heart’s racing, and you haven’t even started the day yet.”

Stiles hated the damn wolf sense. 

“No, uh-uh, no more of that wolf sense you hybrid cat.” Stiles snarled as he savored every bite of the perfectly toasted carb. 

“Hybrid cat? Didn’t know you were into pet names..” Derek grumbled under his breath.

Stiles then went off into one of his tangents again, explaining how he is a nickname connaisseur, and that there was _more_ from where that came from, “Hybrid cat.. Oversized litter, furry heathen, sourwolf, angry kitty, ya know.. The works. Let me know which one really does it for you.” 

“Stiles, get the hell out of my car.”

He didn’t hesitate, not even noticing that Derek had pulled up all the way to the school entrance, “Yes sir.”

Derek rolled down the window and hollered before Stiles left, “I’ll pick you up after school ends.”  
Hesitation came once again. He appreciated it all– really, the whole-crashing-at-your-house-and-bathing-in-your-shower-and-sleeping-in-your-clothes-and-eating-your-breakfast-thing, but it’s all too fast. And now, suddenly Derek thinks he owns Stiles?

The teen awkwardly pinched at the nape of his neck, “uh.. Derek, that’s okay, Scott’ll drive me home.”

“Don’t you want to get your jeep?” He flicked up his sunglasses to reveal an unamused expression.

Stiles stares awkwardly at the man, catching his reflection in Derek’s sunglasses. 

“My car! Right.. Yes, okay, yes thank you, alrighty. I will uh.. Catch you later.” He started to nervously bob his head back and forth in a comedic way, signaling Derek that it was time to go before Stiles turns into a nervous wreck. 

As soon as the black camaro drove off, Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. Of course he was obsessed with Derek, and of course he enjoyed the fact that Derek likes him back, but he doesn’t think he can take much longer without imploding into a panic attack. Derek is like a physical form of butterflies in his stomach, and the desire for him has never been more. 

Regardless, now he’s gotta go think about college entrance programs instead of himself feeling up sourwolf. 

He felt a hand wrap itself around his shoulders, and to his delight, it was Scott, displaying a mischievous smirk. 

“Don’t.”

“How was it?” Scott was absolutely gleaming, “what did you do? Did he drop you off? Well I mean I know he dropped you off– did you sleep over? How did you even g-”

Stiles glanced at him with a hearty chuckle as he shook his head and went on to explain all the delicious details. 

 

“Well you know what, I’m happy for you buddy. Just never ever tell me about you doing it with Derek or else I will never ever sleep again.” Scott chuckled, as Stiles obviously took that for an invitation to do so. 

The rest of the day was normal. Stiles took his usually scheduled nap in the back of Coach’s class, faked his way through assignments because #senioritis, and listened to Lydia beg for all the parts regarding his encounter with his furry lover. Well when you put it that way, it’s gross. 

The only thing really that stuck by from any of his conversations today was when Lydia asked, “so are you guys a thing now?”

Stiles became dumbfounded. 

Did Derek ever say I love you? I mean, he let him in his home, showered, and then they made out, and he slept over. And Derek got him up, made him breakfast, got him home, and then to school. 

Just normal, daily human decent things to do right? Doesn’t mean Derek wants to marry Stiles, right?

“What do you mean?” 

Lydia pursed her lips, “I mean, obviously you guys are a thing, but are you a _thing_ -thing?” 

It hadn’t occurred to Stiles if he was just one of the man’s one night stands. The worst part of this conversation was the fact that Stiles just has to ask him now, or else it’ll eat him alive not knowing. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Hey,” Derek gave a smile (huh? The man smiles in the daytime? And he looks even better doing it?) as he leaned against the black camaro. Soft music played from the car, possibly that one song by Bon Jovi, _Holocene_.

Stiles let himself in as he greeted back, but that was the only exchange of words as the two made their way, to where Stiles assumed was the mechanic’s.

Derek glanced at Stiles, who was thinking very loudly. He, himself, was a man of silence, without a doubt, but it scares him to know that Stiles a) has anxiety and won’t admit help when it gets serious, and b) is actually capable of being quiet. However, he knew the latter came as a side effect of option a or something is truly bothering him. 

“You’re awfully quiet.” Derek honed, keeping his eyes on the road as to not make Stiles feel eyed, taking the time to mention that his Jeep has already been dropped off home. His eyes followed the teenager’s long fingers that pricked at the back of his neck. Derek’s come to the conclusion that he does that when he gets nervous. And he’s done that a lot. Stiles wrings his knuckles too. 

 

A small bout of silence preceded Stiles breaking it, ”are we going too fast?” Derek gave him an uneasy smile as he continued, “I-I mean, you just came back and I just jumped into it a-and like what even are we?”

Derek assumed someone had talked to him, which may or may not have been true. 

“Was this Lydia or Scott who put this idea in your head?” Derek asked, keeping his eyes in front of him, but still managed to notice the teenager purse his lips. “Stiles, if this is too fast for you– then we can slow it down.” Somehow, he was as cool as a cucumber, yet Stiles was internally burning on the inside.

Stiles sighed, _“what are we Derek?”_

They had just pulled up to a red light, and Derek thought about it as well, re-enacting the events of last night. 

He let him in his home.

He confessed his undying love.

He showered.

Then they made out.

And he slept over. 

And Derek got him up, made him breakfast, got him home, and then to school. 

And then picked up him up.

Derek’s green hazel eyes meet with those certain, sweet honey amber ones. “I guess no one really asked anyone anything.” 

“I guess not,” Stiles said, as he started to get nervous because it was as if Derek was ever regretting last night, and maybe he was a one-night-stand. The feeling got even worse as no one spoke a word until they found themselves in Stiles’ driveway. The Jeep was there parked, but the sheriff’s truck was nowhere to be seen. Derek unlocked the car doors. 

Except no one moved, and no one spoke. 

Stiles’ heart was beating the hell out of his chest, and he smelled like anxiety; it was metallic yet sour, and unfortunately familiar.   
Derek swallowed, watching Stiles’ hand linger on the door handle. 

“Stiles, if you leave this car, and decide you want to be with me, then call me. Because I do. I really, really do, but if you don’t call me, then I’ll respect that.” Derek spoke with truth and compassion, and instantly, Stiles knew. He just knew. 

So he watched Stiles Stilinski get out of his car, into his house, and lock the door behind him. 

It wasn’t an hour later when Derek’s phone buzzed sporadically in his pants pocket. 

He pulled it out, and felt his stomach pit when he saw the contact on the screen. Pristine, white teeth bit into his lower lip as he stood in the line of the cash registers at the grocery store.

“Hello?” 

“Derek?” Stiles voice was quiet and raw, yet bore a confident timbre.


	4. Dinner Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! I'm sorry, I totally forgot i scheduled to go away all last week, so I'll hopefully get around to updating everything this week. your comments and kudos are very appreciated and I'm sorry If I haven't gotten around to replying back to yours ;) shorter chapter to make up for my idiocy and lack of commitment.

When Stiles Stilinski opened his door, he was expecting to see his tired, overworked father who had just come home. 

But seeing Derek Hale was even better. 

Stiles smiled, because he was reminded of the phone call they had earlier that afternoon.

_“So I was wondering.. Maybe, if we could try out that whole being-an-item thing?” Stiles asked._

_“So maybe.. Then this is the part where I ask you out?”_

_“Maybe I would say yes.”_

_“Then maybe I’ll pick you up at seven.”_

_“Alright.. Hey Stiles Stilinski?” Derek’s tone changed, as if he were trying to start anew. It was the voice you make when you’re re-telling a conversation or story, and it made Stiles smile. “So, I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me?”_

_“Like go-out-go-out?” Stiles went along with it._

_“Like on dates, and kiss, and do things couples do, and be my boyfriend.”_

_Stiles hoped Derek could feel him smiling on the other end of the line. He let out a chuckle, “I guess, Derek Hale.”_

_“So I’ll pick you up at seven?”_

_Stiles would be screaming if he wasn’t trying to be cool, “Ok well I’m not trying to be a needy boyfriend or anything but–”_

_“You said boyfriend.” Derek reiterated, feeling himself go red in the face. Thankfully he’s in the car. Of course, it’s 2018, but rather it’s the fact that Derek was feeling such intimacy that made him bashful. He hasn’t really had that since, Paige, and then Kate. And now that he does, he feels undeserving and fearful of messing up._

_“And you enjoyed it.” Stiles could definitely imagine Derek rolling his eyes right now. “..but I really, really wouldn’t mind if you came over right now.”_

_Derek perked up, realizing that he totally forgot he was still in the parking lot. That’s right, Stiles Stilinski makes Derek Hale lose all sense of time and place._

_He promised to be there in half an hour.  
_

“Wow,” Stiles checked his phone, “eighteen minutes. What were you doing? 40 over 50?” He joked around before inviting Derek in. 

_______________

The whole my-parents-aren’t-home-thing is _such_ a tease, because one minute, Stiles is telling Derek to make himself at home, and the next, the werewolf is pulling at Stiles’ shirt. 

First, it was the shirts that came off. Then, they’re on top of Stiles twin-sized bed, which obviously isn’t big enough for them to be thrashing around width-wise. Stiles found himself on top of Derek’s chest, nipping at his neck. They’re loud, and they’re panting. But, the most dangerous part of this is that Derek is half-primal instincts, but Stiles is _all intensely-fuming teenage hormones_ that he can’t help but breathe in.

This is it. This all they have wanted. To be together, and it’s finally happening? Someone pinch them. Please. 

Derek’s broad, but tenderly-touching hands were all over the human’s, moving from his chest, to his back, to running them through his chair and caressing his cheeks. It was as if he could literally smell all the dopamine endorphins being released. This was what it must feel like to get high. Each kiss was better and more passionate and enthustiatic then the last, and it was breathtaking until Derek abruptly stopped. Stiles looked into his eyes in worry. 

“When’s your dad home?” Derek said in between kisses.

“He didn’t say.” Stiles breathed heavily.

Immediately, they both jumped up in opposite directions. Stiles looked out his window, as Derek pulled on his shirt. The human warned about the sheriff’s trucked parked outside.

Behind a black camaro. 

“Uh.. Uh okay, okay just-just–” Stiles was frantic as he realized he couldn’t hide Derek now, but needed to make it look like as if they weren’t totally making out. 

Regardless, Derek had made it a point to greet the sheriff as he opened the door for him. 

Noah Stilinski wore a face of pleasant surprise, “Derek–” he smiled, “I didn’t know Stiles was having you over. Good to see you, son.” 

Derek greeted him back, peering behind him to find Stiles’ sheepishly hiding around the hall corner.

“Ah yes, my imbecile successor has failed to inform about company once again. I apologize Derek or else I would’ve been here earlier. Stiles..” 

The young man flinches and acts as if he were _just_ coming out of his room, “hey big guy! What’s up?” He wore an impish grin. 

“Sorry for an impromptu stop, Sheriff Stilinski–”

“Please– Noah.” 

Stiles smiled, knowing Derek’s already approved. 

“Well, if you boys wash up, I can make some dinner for all of us.” 

Stiles stammered, “u-um actually Dad we–”

Derek cut in before Stiles could finish that trainwreck, “would be delighted to have dinner.” He flashed his award-winning smile and all. Noah grinned as he took off his jacket and escaped to the kitchen, knowing well that he doesn’t want to witness whatever they were in the middle of doing. 

“Okay Derek, let me show you where the bathroom is,” Stiles said in an awkward tone and loudly, on purpose for his dad to hear. Thus, he received a smack in the arm as he pulled Derek upstairs. 

Stiles lured him into the bathroom, trying not to giggle as he held Derek’s hand. Derek, closing the door behind him, picked Stiles up onto the granite space of the sink vanity. He wrapped his arms around him and came in close, feeling the warm breath and the brush of their noses.

“Whatever happened to seven o’clock?”

Derek ran his hands again through Stiles’ hair, absolutely adoring the feeling of it. 

“Maybe after this we can just.. Do whatever..” Derek’s lips teased Stiles’ bottom one. He dug his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck, taking it all in, “maybe, find out everything there is to know about you..” His hand moved slowly up Stiles’ back, “what you like… hate, dream about.. Wanna be..” Derek heard Stiles moan contently as he gave him a comforting kiss on the forehead. “Plus, I thought this would be a good time to you know.. Talk to your dad.”

Stiles was immediately turned off. “I mean- he already knows..”

Derek nodded his head as he did that cute smiling thing, “I’m not sneaking around your dad, Stiles. One, he’s the sheriff and would personally have me crucified, and two..” his voice got a little quieter and more serious, but soft, “I’m proud to be with you, and I don’t want to hide you from the world.” it’s scary for Stiles to think about every single possible scenario where his father says no and forbids him from seeing Derek. But it’s also another thing that since Stiles is technically legal, he would take authority over himself. 

Stiles whispered, “okay,” as he leaned his forehead against Derek’s, his hands caressing his waist. However as Stiles looked down, he managed to grab a glance at a bulging figure hidden in his khakis. Because of course, the one thing you pray won’t happen, always happens. It’s a universal law. To top it all, his father was calling them down to get ready for dinner. 

“Uh…”

Derek chuckled, trying to stifle his laughed despite not even looking down. 

“Oh my god you knew.”

Derek bit his lip again, “Stiles I know when everything happens.” He listened to his swear under his breath about wolf senses. “I’ll tell your father you’re coming down,” he said as his face scrunched. “Wrong choice of words.” 

Stiles threw the closest hand towel he could reach at him.   
_______________

Dinner with a guest was always the best. It was often Scott and Melissa who often occupied the vacant seats at the table, but most nights it was Stiles and the sheriff, together if they were lucky. It wasn’t really anything that would send Stiles into a spiraling panic attack, but it was always a reminder that someone was missing. But he can’t imagine how good it must be for Derek to be treated like family in the house. He truly had no one left, and even his “family” down in Mexico had felt like strangers to him. This was one of the best family dinners in a while. 

The conversation shifted from Derek’s life in Mexico, to family. It was then where Stiles learned what Scott and Peter had failed to inform him of. But from what it sounded like, it seemed to be more of a business trip then it was a hiatus. Then, it jumped from how bad of a cook Noah is and how Stiles won’t miss it, to college talk, and finally landed upon the elephant in the room. Derek, who sat right besides Stiles could hear his heartbeat increase exponentially. Stiles’ heart rate didn’t relax until his _boyfriend_ managed to sneak his hand on top of Stiles’ and clutched it gently. “Sheriff, I’m sure you’re aware of Stiles and I..” Derek looked at the younger man, and then back at his father who was gleaming. “And I just wanted permission to be with him, considering the whole age thing–” 

“So you guys are dating now?” 

Stiles’ leg starts to bounce again. Derek’s hand moves from Stiles’ own and onto his thigh, gently rubbing circles with his fingertips.

Noah watches his son nod, “i-is that okay with you?”

The sheriff broke out of his serious trance to show a grin and spoke with sheer amusement, “boys of course it is. Actually I’m flattered that you came to ask first rather than sneaking around, and also– it’s about damn time. Derek, you are just as much as part of this family as we are. Just one thing.” 

_Pleasedon’tbethesextalkpleasedon’tbethesextalkpleasedon’tbethesextalk._

“Remember I’m the sheriff and easily have resources and a loaded holster at all times, so you better take care of each other,” the sheriff reminded them, but it came off as more of a threat to Derek if he ever hurt Stiles, than a joke. However, it’s not fair to threaten only Derek because if somehow it is Stiles’ fault, the sheriff needs to be there for both parties. This is a man of justice you’re talking about.

_Phew._

“Oh,” he added before giving them a skeptical look, “you two are adults; I don’t ever need to know about it and I only say this because I was young once too.. but – if anything’s going to happen, I want it under my roof, knowing you’ll be safe.”

 _”Way to make us regurgitate our dinner.”_ Stiles thought as he furrowed his eyebrows sheepishly. 

Derek thanked him and assured it “duly noted.” It made him extremely happy and feeling safe that he and Stiles could be truthful with his father, because he’s not sure his own dad would’ve been as accepting. He remembered having to hide Paige from the family, let alone bringing a boy home. Knowing that Stiles was raised by a man as good as the sheriff made Derek feel like the luckiest guy on Earth. 

The rest of the night was lovely as Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles, _and his boyfriend_ Derek, finished it off with the rest of whatever baseball game was on before calling it a day. Somehow, he managed to convince Noah into letting him stay the night at Derek’s. Stiles thanked his dad for not making it such a big deal and being understanding about it, because not too many kids are lucky like him. Before he left, his father wanted to remind him of something, “so when are you going to ask him to prom?” Noah asked out of curiosity, knowing all too well Stiles might have gotten caught up and totally forgot. “You’ve got three days kiddo.”


	5. Senioritis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️: Warning! Implied Mention of death, depresion, murder..  
> Warning! Mention of homophobia, homophobic actions, and discriminative, unacceptable slurs. 
> 
> If any of these maybe be a trigger, then please consider your own self kindly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Towards the end of the chapter and the beginning of the next chapter, you’re going to be predisposed to violence induced by homophobia. 
> 
> I’m writing about this with permission of a personal scenario (not to me, but another freind) who requested to show the danger and potentional for hate in the LGBTQ+ community that still lingers. It’s my job to show what violence, discrimination etc does to a person, and specifically how it affects this certain group and their journey to self acceptance, so I hope I do it justice. I hope it is clear that I disapprove of using any of those highly offensive words and do not partake, romanticize, or encourage what is said and done. Please take care of yourself while reading the rest of this fic, and know if you’ve had enough. I won’t be offended I promise :-) xx

The next night, Derek picked Stiles up for a casual, impromptu dinner at a local diner before sleeping over. The thought of going there was daunting to Stiles because it was notoriously filled up by all the lacrosse jocks he sincerely hated at school. Considering he hasn’t exactly– come out– yet, publicly at least, Stiles broiled in the front seat of the camaro as he played out all the possible scenarios. 

“What’s on your mind? You seem–” Derek said quietly. He was a man of silence himself, but he knew Stiles most certainly wasn’t. 

“Don’t– dude, do not _smell_ me–” He scolded.

“It’s hard to ignore the scent of extreme worry Stiles.” It was the scent of rusty iron, with a sour tinge to it. 

Stiles huffed out, “it’s just, I don’t know, stupid high school stuff I guess.”

Derek hasn’t really thought about the age difference that much before realizing he would be probably have graduated college had he gone by now. Knowing that Stiles is still in highschool pulls away some sort of relatability of their relationship. 

“Stiles, we can do this another night if you want.”

Stiles shook, reiterating the fact that they should just enjoy tonight. 

The aesthetic of the local diner was one that always brought back nostalgia to Stiles’ mind. It was modern, yet retro, but always comforting nevertheless, consumed by simplicity. The young man had associated many, many memories with this place. And no, it wasn’t somewhere his mother would go with him. In fact, it started after his mother died. When it got to days where the sheriff couldn’t drink himself to sleep no more, he would pick Stiles up at 11pm and drive him, half asleep, all the way to the diner to enjoy some milkshakes. Thinking about it now, as much as Stiles hated his father for putting himself through to suffer with alcohol, his appreciation for him only grew after those nights. 

Derek held the door open for Stiles as they walked in, who immediately noticed the crew of guys he was trying _so_ inexplicably hard to avoid. Stiles most definitely made eye contact with them, only to snap his attention back to Derek. He kept throwing glances back at the boys, who seemed to have been snickering, until Derek snapped him out of it. 

“What?” Stiles had missed all of what he said. 

“I asked, what would you like to order?”

Stiles smiled awkwardly as they proceeded to order with the sweet waitress that had stopped by their table. Shifting nervously, Stiles averted Derek’s eyes, which were seemingly analyzing every crook and cranny of him. The teenager had that look on his face that signaled he’s being stared at. 

“Stiles, are you–” he held out his hand across the table, waiting for his to touch Stiles’ hands, his really, really soft hands.

“Do you wanna go to prom?” The teenager impulsively blurted out. 

Derek froze, feeling his cheeks go a little red as his eyes widened. 

Stiles ramble as his eyes darted everywhere except at Derek, “-With me, do you want to go to prom with me this Friday night? Or like not, it’s okay if not I mean— like it’s whatever so, I guess, I don’t know you’re a grown ass man so like you can say no or like whatever I-“

Derek’s hand gently wrapped itself around Stiles’ who was too busy talking to even notice, “yes.” 

“—And like I mean I don’t know let me know if it’s a little weird, I mean I don’t even have to go, I don’t even like dances, I’ll just sell my tickets and—“

“Stiles.” His brooding voice was a little soft, yet stern and it scared Stiles due to the fact that he’s capable of that. 

Stiles looked up at him with actual puppy dog eyes, the honey brown amber color reflected in _such_ a way. 

“Yes, I’ll go to prom with you.”

Stiles smiled goofily, “oh. Okay. Okay cool.” 

Honestly, Derek was hesitant to say yes, but it was something that made Stiles happy, so by extension, it made him happy. But the thought of seeing families he knew, teachers who recognized, and just overall being an _adult_ at a high school dance threatened his morals. He joked to himself about getting a haircut and changing his name but, maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe, _hopefully_ , no one would recognize or even call him out. It’s not like he forced Stiles into a relationship right? The consent was a mutual thing, _right?_

Dinner was served as the two enjoyed a simple dinner in the presence of each other. They caught up, reminiscing back into Stiles’ senior year, and Derek’s hiatus in Mexico because the first night they met, there wasn’t much talking going on.  
“So when does college start?” Derek had asked, sipping on his health conscientious choice of a drink (because he’s Derek freaking Hale. Of course he’s a health nut.)

“Actually, I uh..” Stiles started, his voice guilt-ridden due to the fact that he hasn’t told Derek about his plans, “I leave the first week of July for this FBI internship..” He noticed Derek had suddenly put his drink down a little too quickly. Stiles averted his attention by focusing on stuffing as many fries into his mouth as possible. 

“So in a month?” Derek asked quietly. 

Stiles looked up nodding. It was like stabbing Derek in the stomach, teasing him in the meanest way, as if he only had intentions of him being his groupie. Here they are, finally dating after years of tension, after years of failure to accept one another’s feelings, and as soon as they finally get that, it’s _ripped_ from their hands. 

“Where?”

“Quantico.” 

Derek tried to be happy for him, like _really, really_ tried, but– he _literally_ just got him back. 

“Alright well don’t get _too_ excited, buddy.” Stiles tried to laugh it off, but he could tell Derek was solemnly failing at finding a silver lining. 

Derek sighed, attempting to feign a smile here or there, “S-sorry, no, I’m really happy for you Stiles. Seriously, you deserve it.” 

Stiles gave an awkward smile back, “I probably should have told you sooner.. I’m sorry. I mean– I never would of thought of this like, even ever happening so, like maybe if I knew I wouldn’t have accepted it. Now that I think about it I mean, I-I would like defer for half the year and go to school first and then take the second semester o–”

Derek looked at him with a deranged glare, “Are you serious Stiles? You can’t throw away your future-–everything you’ve worked so hard for– f-for me.” 

“But Derek–”

“No.” His pale blue-green-hazel-whatever-they’re-gorgeous-regardless eyes stared at him sternly, “I won’t let you do that,” his voice became more gentle, matching his softened expression, “we’ll just treasure the time we have.” 

Stiles nodded, “we’ll make it work.”  
Derek knows no one’s confessed a serious, I-wanna-fucking-marry-you-and-start-a-family type of love, but he’s slightly afraid of the fact that Stiles would find someone else while he’s away. Because Derek knows that’s just how the real world works; Stiles _will_ find someone else as he grows into an adult. 

They didn’t allow the conversation to bother the rest of their meal. And soon, Stiles had forgotten all about the jocks gossiping about them in the back. Derek, who refused to let Stiles pay, picked up the tab, and since the sheriff wouldn’t be home early tonight, invited Stiles over for the night. It helped that Stiles could spend nights with Derek because it was too often that he would go to bed in an empty house hold. 

 

The drive was one that accompanied a conversation full of dream jobs, hopes for the future, and basically everything thing else that could have only come from a tumblr blog. 

Stiles was in the middle of a gigglefest as he managed to get out a solid debate, “Okay- okay, _Star Trek or Star Wars?_ ”

“If I don’t say Star Wars, you’re gonna break up with me,” Derek chuckled. 

“You _weren’t_ gonna say Star Wars? Derek Hale this just might be it.” Stiles stifled his laughter, biting his bottom lip. “You probably haven’t watched even a single second of any of the movies!”

Derek stared at him cheekily as he unlocked the door to his loft. 

“ _ohmygod_ – You haven’t!” The werewolf chuckled as he got the whole case yelled in his ear, “oh my god you were too cool in high school to watch it weren't you? What was it–– varsity baseball? Tri-athlete, freshman year? Class officer?” Stiles was just having so much fun with this. 

Derek grinned as he turned on the lights and closed the door behind him. “Basketball, actually.” That’s right, Mr. I’ll-Bite-Your-Face off was a baller before he was a brawler. 

“Derek Hale was a jock.”

“Aren’t you a jock?”

Stiles stood there, flabbergasted, with his mouth open, “excuse me _sir_ – also that requires me to _actually_ play the damn sport. “ He took his usual seat at the kitchen table. “Ok, entertain me this, if you could go back in time, where’d you go for college? Like, what would you do more than this whole-werewolf thing?”

“I didn’t need to go to college, and maybe if I had the chance I probably still wouldn’t go.. Like Scott, Scott was brought into this world, I was born in it and I have my own responsibilities. Job seeking never really occurred to me. Although, in sophmore year I was a busboy, but only because I had a crush on this girl that worked there.” 

Stiles needed to exert kinetic energy to process the idea that a, Derek didn’t want to go to college, and b, he was _capable_ of having a crush. _Soft_. Derek Hale was soft under all that brooding exterior. Like a porcupine. “W-wait, are you like– didn’t wanna go to college? How– what, but–” Stiles couldn’t comprehend. He knew the Hale family had more than enough money to put all of the kids, and their kids’ kids, through college. 

“I had responsibilities.” 

“So you just threw yourself out into the real world with only high school knowledge.”

Derek paused for a second, a sort of more serious expression taking over his face, “I uh… actually tested out of most of my classes in junior year and made up all the rest of my credits in the second semester so I graduated early.” Derek seemed a little distracted as he tried to continue, “it’s.. It’s hard getting accepted into college when you’re seventeen if you planned applying in senior year.” The older man took a seat across the table, but it still seemed as if there was a cloud in his mind. 

Stiles tried to piece together what the hell was going on, realizing they were treading dangerous waters. He furrowed his brow, “Jesus, are you like secretly in MENSA? Why did you–” Stiles was three words into his sentence when he finally remembered. “Oh my– Shit, Derek I’m so–, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking–”

Derek rubbed at his eyes a bit, and whilst Stiles knew he wasn’t crying, he was getting there. Derek sighed as he received a very sympathetic face from Stiles, “no, no you’re- its fine, it’s not your baggage to keep track of. I just..” he let out another, stopping for a second, ”haven’t thought about it for a while.”

Stiles felt incredibly guilty. He always, always hated when someone else would bring up his mother, or Alison, or Heather because it just made him feel so… grossly responsible for what happened to them. It was enough for him to feel his own pain, let alone others’. “If you want baggage, you’re talking to the right person,” Stiles let out a soft chuckle as he attempted to pull Derek out of this gloom. 

“After the fire.. I went to live with Peter. A-and you know during school, I was as fine as I could be.” Derek spoke quietly. _Now_ Stiles could see the tears that threatened his boyfriend’s eyes, and it _scared_ Stiles. He’s never seen him even quiver. Never heard his voice shake. Never heard Derek been the slightest unsure of whatever he said. Everything was pure, and painfully raw for Stiles. “..And as soon as I graduated, I just went into this– this _hole_ that I couldn’t get out of. And it was like that for a long time. I was _angry_ for a long time.” 

Stiles remembered the first day he met Derek in the woods, back after he and Scott found his sister. And he specifically remembered him tainting everything he touched with anger and pessimism. Of course, Derek must have bad days now and then, but personality-wise– he was unrecognizable to Stiles. Maybe he’s this way _just_ to Stiles, however. 

Suddenly, as Derek felt himself starting to slowly go down that **hole** again, he snapped out of, shaking his head. “Sorry, I just made this unnecessarily depressing.” Finally losing that brooding glaze, Derek’s beautiful eyes met Stiles’. 

Stiles was forgiving, knowing the feeling all too well, “no seriously Derek,” he said as he got up, walking behind where Derek was sitting. The werewolf soon found Stiles’ arms wrapped around his chest, Stiles’ head leaning into the crook of his neck. “You gotta– you gotta let that negative space out of your system. Let the demon out. And _I_ , of all people, should know how shitty that feels.” Stiles hugged him a little tighter, loving the feeling of Derek’s muscles, “Oh by the way you can laugh at that, sometimes I’m unintentionally witty I know. I’m a renaissance man basically.”

Derek chuckled softly as he proceeded to kiss the knuckles of Stiles’ hand. 

“You know.. You don’t have to go to with me, Friday night.” Stiles gently suggested. It came to his attention, as of this conversation, that maybe taking a trip down memory lane is _not_ what Derek needs right now. What he needs, as Stiles can now clearly see his tough-guy facade, is emotional and physical presence. Boy, nothing screams that like a gym full of hormone-raging teens suffering from senioritis. 

The fact that Derek couldn’t answer back said more than enough. 

Stiles rubbed his hand soothingly up and down Derek’s upper arm, “it’s okay.” He got up, going to take a shower before changing for the night. And soon, Stiles found himself wrapped around Derek Hale that night, in Derek Hale’s bed. 

_______________

It was that time of year where classes don’t matter, teachers don’t bother with senior attendance, and kids just _stop_ trying, if they haven’t done so already. But, that didn’t stop Sheriff Stilinski from threatening Stiles to get his ass to school. 

Unfortunately, he’ll wish he never did so. 

“No dude I’m telling you, it was like when I asked him, he said yes right? But like I could definitely tell he was uncomfortable. He just didn’t wanna say anything until I like, suggested the option.” Stiles spoke as he and Scott walked to school after Derek dropped him off. 

“Stilinski!” An unfamiliar voice yelled out and caught Stiles’ attention as he turned around. 

Behind him stood Ramirez, a lacrosse dickhead that Stiles was never too fond of, and his two minion henchman, whom he doesn’t recognize, and therefore defaults to his original thought: underclassmen. 

“What do you want Ramirez?” Stiles rolled his eyes. 

What? He deserves it, trust me. 

“Didn’t know you swung for the other team?” He smirked, an evil shimmer in his eyes as they darted from his boys to Stiles. 

Stiles burrowed his eyebrows before compulsively replying, “didn’t know I played baseball.” A small huff proceeded as he kept walking.

Scott gave him a glance that said **keep walking.**

“So what’d he do? Kidnap you? Lure you into his van with candy? Seriously?” Ramirez looked to his minions before chuckling a hearty, yet sinister laugh, “boys, he’s doing it with a cold-blooded arsonist. Watch out Stiles– he’ll burn you alive while he’s hitting it from the back.” 

Stiles was fuming because he recognized that Ramirez was definitely one of those guys at the diner the other night. You know, the ones where Derek told him not to let them get he best of him? 

Ramirez seems satisfied and proud of himself until he realizes Stiles is just gonna stay silent. He’s made it halfway to class by now. “It seems your _daddy_ hasn’t taught you manners. Just kept fucking walking away from us.” 

Stiles snarks back, “Don’t you _ever_ fucking talk about Derek! And at least I have a dad. How about you fu–”

“H-hey Stiles!” Scott, pretending to come out of absolute nowhere, interrupts with a goofy, forced grin, “Ramirez… what’s uh.. What’s up?” 

The angry teen scorned at the two, before flashing yet another impish grin. “Just me inviting my buddy Stilinski here to our tea party after school.” 

Scott’s faced became serious, “hey maybe you should uh.. just lay low Ramirez.” His hand was held against the taunt’s chest. “Before someone gets hurt.” 

“Maybe you should tell the cupcake of a friend over there to keep his dick in his pants and out of these halls. Or what, is he getting it with you too?” A sinister silence had taken the two of them captive. “You knew he was a fuckin’ gay McCall? Hell you’re gay anyways but not Stiles. Stiles is _gay_ gay.”

Scott almost growled then and there, “Hey!” Scott was yelling loud enough for everyone in the hall to stop and stare. “Who he likes, or I like, or you like isn’t anyone’s business but their freaking own! And who the hell are you to have an opinion on it?.” His face was visibly angry, but he couldn’t even fathom changing in front of everyone. He’s got it controlled as of late, but who knows what unpredicateble rage will do. 

“What did you just call me?” Stiles gritted his teeth, trying so fucking hard to not clench his first and meet it the boy’s jaw. 

“Stiles—“ Scott warned as he watched Ramirez step in closer to Stiles.

“No Scott— I wanna hear what this homophobic fucker has to say about me. Seriously,” Stikes seemed to be impishly taunting him now, provoking him almost as if he deliberately needed to hear the prejudice, “Enlighten me, Ramirez.”

“I said. Get. Your. **Faggot. Cupcake.** Lookin’ Ass. Out. Of. My. Hallway.” Each word became more menacing. Each breath became more threatening. 

And because he’s Stiles, and because he’s the most stubborn human being to ever exist, Stiles signed his death certificate. 

_“Make me.”_


	6. Label

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of homophobia, self-hatred, questioning of sexuality etc.  
> If you are sensitive to any of this, please, skip this chapter for your own sake. 
> 
> Summary: After the fight, Stiles struggles to come to terms with his sexuality. 
> 
> (I wrote this as realistic as could be, and as raw/vulnerable too. Because it's important to me that this serves as a lesson. Please keep safe, know that you are loved by some random teenager on the internet. Take care of yourself.) 
> 
> Shorter chapter to deliver the point.

The ring of the sheriff’s phone was a startling one that morning. Getting a phone call from school was _never_ good, but getting one saying your child needs to be urgently evaluated by a doctor after getting hurt? It sent chills down his spine, until they mentioned that Stiles was injured during a **fight** with his peer. And yes, Noah thought about it. But did he think, _no, my boy could never fight in school _? No he didn’t, because knows damn well that if there’s anything not physical that Stiles’ shared with his mother, it was his stubbornness and loud, unfiltered mouth.__

__The first thing he saw walking into the school was the windows of the main office, in which a young man sat in a chair as he probably awaited his doom. Noah suspected him as the perpetrator, but he obviously had no visibles casualty or injuries, so he crossed him off the list._ _

__The second thing the sheriff saw was Scott, a very _angry_ Scott in the doorway of the infirmary._ _

__The third thing was a barely-there Stiles Stilinski, laying on the bed with an ice pack up to his face, and his head held up._ _

__“Sheriff,” the nurse greeted with an uneasy look, “so sorry to have called so early.. I’m just a little worried about what our friend here got himself into this morning.” She smiled as genuinely as she could, dabbing cotton pads on an abrasive cut above Stiles’ lips. His son winced, and then groaned when he realized his father was here. “On the bright side, it seems that nothing will be needing stitches.. I am concerned about a concussion however. Scott brought him a little fazed out. Wouldn’t hurt being safe.”_ _

__“Scott, son, you uh.. Wanna tell me what _exactly_ this knucklehead did?” The sheriff asked gently, despite knowing vague details of the event. _ _

__“Actually, sheriff.. Can I– Can I talk to you in private?” Scott asked politely as he held the door for them into the hall. Scott sighed, “what did they tell you?”_ _

__“That Stiles got into a fight, but that he was attacked, but they wanted me to come down first to talk to the principal..”_ _

__Scott could still smell the fresh blood, the pain, and the anger, and the more he did, the more he wanted to absolutely snap Ramirez in half. “...Stiles _was_ attacked, uh.. Ramirez and the other guys I guess.. They found out about Derek, and said some really, really disgusting things about Stiles.” Scott’s voice was firm in itself, but that was only because he was making sure he wouldn’t shift out of control. “W-what I’m trying to say is.. Stiles didn’t hit back because it was a hate crime. So.. I mean, do what you need with that information. And he’s got tons of witnesses to back him up anyways..”_ _

__The sheriff pinched at his eyes as he sighed, “oh God..” It was definitely way too early in the morning for this. “T-thank you, Scott. For– for everything..”_ _

__As the nurse tended to Stiles, the sheriff went to meet with school administrators, who not only reassured him that something like this wouldn’t happen again, but that Ramirez would have a week’s worth of suspension. As the sheriff, he fully supported the idea. As a parent, he was furious, but also guilty considering that this could potentially ruin a teenager’s future, especially if he were on some sort of college scholarship as of right now. No one wants to support a homophobe. Regardless, he hurt Stiles, mentally and physically, and needs to see consequences. And in this day and age, there is absolutely zero-tolerance for this kind of behavior, regardless of the setting, because jesus fucking christ. Seriously? Beating someone up, because of their sexual preference, something that is _none of someone else’s business_ I might add? The sheriff made sure he was mentally wearing his sheriff’s badge that morning, and not his parent one._ _

__The sheriff didn’t say anything on the drive to the urgent care facility because he knew Stiles wouldn’t give an answer. The kid seemed too _drowned_ in his own thoughts to even think of a response when the doctor asked how the injury came about; his father answered “a fight at school,” truthfully. And the sheriff didn’t say anything on the ride home, because he could tell that either Stiles’ was _incredibly tired_ , emotionally drained, appalled, or all of the above. So the conversation didn’t start until Noah ordered that Stiles sit down at the kitchen table so they can have an honest discussion. _ _

__“A bloody nose, a cut lip, and a black eye,” Sheriff Stilinski sighed disapprovingly as he analyzed his son’s beaten face. “Stiles,” he beckoned at the teen who had his head leaned back against a chair, but was obviously diverting his father’s eyes. “Stiles look at me.”_ _

___”What?” Stiles daringly snarled in reply. He had an ice pack to his left eye and was slightly dazed, as to be expected. “What Dad?” He said shamefully, in a softer voice._ _ _

___“Do you _understand_ what happened? Do you _get_ that-– that kids are picking on you, violently, I might add because–”_ _ _

___“Because of what. Derek?” He snapped, getting up to go to his room while the household is still _in peace_._ _ _

___“Stiles…”_ _ _

___“No Dad, you never wanted me to be with him anyways so can you just like-– chill out for two goddamn seconds? It’s not my fault I like.. him.”_ _ _

___The sheriff backed away a bit, scoffing at his son, “Well, it’s not exactly easy when your son have a boyfriend seven years his senior, but that doesn’t mean I don’t support you, Stiles. Do you hear me?” The sheriff spoke firmly before pulling his son into a tight embrace, “God, getting that phone call so early in the morning.. I thought the worst kiddo.” The sheriff then continued, “and if you think that I don’t love you as much, or I don’t respect you enough because of who you choose to love, then son, we’ve got a problem.” A hearty chuckle came out of the sheriff as he pulled away when Stiles winced. “Okay, so I’m going to whip up a proper breakfast, and you’re going to tell me what happened okay?”_ _ _

___Stiles nodded._ _ _

___Of course, the sheriff must’ve known the story by now, but he just needed that feeling of validation._ _ _

___A cup of orange juice, and a trademark plate of scrambled eggs and homefries was put in front of Stiles. He suddenly questioned his father’s newly-found culinary skills and thought to himself, “maybe I should come home from school more often.” It’s a little too soon to joke about it. Yikes._ _ _

___The sheriff slowly sipped on his coffee as he watched Stiles eagerly devour his meal. “Son,” he began quietly, “are.. Are you okay?”_ _ _

___Stiles looked up, his left eye seemed a little better now but it will most likely cease to dissipate._ _ _

___‘I told you– I’m fine. Like whatever, it happened so.. You know. Shit happens.”_ _ _

___The sheriff clicked his tongue at the language but ignored it as he continued, “I mean.. Are _you_ okay kiddo? I mean, I know college stuff and all is stressful, and then adding this on top of it..”_ _ _

___Stiles took a last bite and put down his fork when he came to the realization, “Dad, I haven’t had _one_ in a while.. I’m doing okay. I promise.”_ _ _

___The sheriff spoke gently, “will you tell me– if you’re not?”_ _ _

___Stiles nodded._ _ _

___Noah noticed he suddenly got a bit quieter and was now toying around the plate with the fork._ _ _

___“He called me a.. Called me a faggot, Dad.” Stiles whispered quietly, taking in quick breaths as he attempted to not cry. His vision had gotten glassy. He clenched his lip as he avoided his father’s eyes, flicking his nose by the fingertip. “I just– I just don’t get it. I don’t _care_ if he calls me names, i just _don’t get why the hell he freaking cares!_ ” He was angrily putting the dishes in the kitchen until he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. All Stiles could do was stare. He knew his father couldn’t stand watching his son get hurt, or feel hurt, and it only made Stiles feel guiltier. But he couldn’t help feeling bad for himself, feeling like a victim. He couldn’t but think that if he were straight, that this would never happen. _ _ _

___Sheriff Stilinski order Stiles to his bed to relax for the rest of the day. He assured his son that he’d be safe, and had nothing to fear. After having prepared another ice pack, Stiles planned to lay in his bed for the remainder of the morning, but two things prevented his relaxation._ _ _

___One was the thought of abundant fear that Ramirez and his douchebag henchman would harm Stiles the next time he saw them._ _ _

___The other was the knocking on the door that made Stiles jump._ _ _

___It seemed as if the brooding werewolf had made himself at home, until it came to his attention that the sheriff had contacted him._ _ _

___“Hey..” Derek smiled sympathetically at his boyfriend, who was trying to actually hide behind the ice pack._ _ _

___“Derek what are you– _you called him_?” The teenager stared down his father, the black eye and bruised cheekbones more prominent than ever. The sheriff huffed, raising his eyebrows at what he would assume was to be an appreciated gesture. He thought it would be best to step away for a few minutes. _ _ _

___“Actually, Scott called me. Just wanted to make sure your okay..” Derek quietly said, sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed. “I heard what happened.” Derek’s brawny hands made their way to Stiles’ face and he allowed them._ _ _

___Stiles didn’t want him to see him like this. All bruised and bloodied up. All moping and pitiful._ _ _

___The feeling of his fingertips dancing on the swollen skin made Stiles tingle, yet cringe as it was just adding to the mortification. He hesitantly pulled away, not daring to even look at his _boyfriend_. _ _ _

___“Stiles.” Derek licked his lips, as he could physically smell the embarrassment, anger, and anxiety fuming out of the teenager. “I just.. Wanted to make sure you’re okay.” The werewolf analyzed and processed the dried blood and bruised, swelling skin. “Are you– okay?”_ _ _

___As Stiles sat on the edge of the bed, he could feel his stomach turn inside out. It wasn’t the fight that made his blood boil and curl. It wasn’t the name calling, the harassment, or the bruises. It was the fact that Stiles had been targeted for _having a boyfriend.__ _ _

___ _

___Derek could see him thinking, reflecting possibly. He knew Stiles’ brain. It hurt him sometimes knowing that it was like a well-oiled machine inside his head, gears that never stopped turning for just one moment._ _ _

___The young man was quiet for a second until Derek heard a sniffle, and then Stiles shook his head._ _ _

___“I’m not okay, Derek.” He took a shaky breath, “it was those guys from last night.”_ _ _

___The guys that Derek specifically told him not to worry about._ _ _

___“Stiles there’s… there’s gonna be a lot of people out there like that. It sucks, but there are. They’re ignorant and they’re close-minded, but you can’t- you can’t close yourself up like they do to themselves.” He spoke in a soft, considerate tone and watched his words. “You think my parents would have been acceptant of me if they knew about my love life? I probably would’ve been kicked out of the house.”_ _ _

___Stiles shivered at the word._ _ _

___“I’m not..” Stiles protested for a second._ _ _

___“What? Bisexual? Gay?” Derek made a face. “They’re not bad words.”_ _ _

___Stiles shifted away, “I just don’t use labels. Okay? Not in anything that matters to me.” Derek could see all the gears in his brain working at rapid fire now. _“I don’t– I don’t like you because you have a dick!_ ” He stammered, the revelation coming out a little too loudly. “I like you because, because you’re you. A-and I’m not gay, or whatever, I’m Stiles. Still Stiles.” _ _ _

___Derek’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Stiles.. it – it doesn’t matter to me, and it shouldn’t matter to anyone else except for you, but if you can’t accept yourself how the _hell_ do you think others will?” _ _ _

___“Yeah well, it shouldn’t fucking matter!”_ _ _

___“Alright just, just relax.”_ _ _

___Stiles rubbed his hands up and down his face vigorously, “ _I got punched._ In the face. Because of this. I’m not going to relax!” _ _ _

___The two voices escalated loud enough for the sheriff to feel the need to intervene._ _ _

___“Derek, son..” Noah spoke softly as he tread dangerous waters._ _ _

___“Can you just like– leave or something?” Stiles said out of spite._ _ _

___“Stiles-” Derek had this crazed look on his face, as if he was going to start laughing hysterically, “you don’t get it, I’m not saying you need to _be something_. I’m saying that if you’re going to be something, you better get ready to defend the _hell_ out of it. Because people don’t get it. They don’t.” Derek’s voice was strong, raised, and slightly angry, one that Stiles hasn’t heard in a damn long time. By but the end of his rant, his words gentle, but sharp, like backstabbing knives. The young man froze, because he knew Derek was right. Not only did he hate him for being right, he felt like shit for not having anything to say back. _ _ _

___“Derek, I think you need to go, son.” The sheriff uttered very quietly and gently, standing at the doorway._ _ _

___As headed for the door, Derek spoke softly, “call me when you know what you want.” Then, Stiles heard the house door slam a few moments later._ _ _

___He plopped on the bed in defeat, watching his father not move a single step._ _ _

___“What? Are you gonna roast me for my own sexuality too?” He groaned in disgust._ _ _

___Noah sighed, sucking his teeth as he rubbed her browline. “Kiddo, I don’t think Derek meant to offend you.. In any way, really. I think he just wants you to sort of, accept yourself?”_ _ _

___The young man buried his face into his pillow._ _ _

___“Listen, I Know you don’t want the talk from me, but.. I know it’s not because of me, or Scott, or anyone else, because we love you regardless. He’s right bud. Figure it out.”_ _ _

___Suddenly, a silence threatened the two, along with a noticed intense rising and heaving of Stiles’ stomach and shoulders. And that’s when tears started to wet Stiles’ pillow._ _ _

___“Hey, hey–” Noah immediately came to aid his son, who was clearly in distress, “is that what this is about?” The father sat his son up, with his hand circling his back._ _ _

___“I don’t know–” Stiles’ words were full of discomfort. “I’m gay, Dad. Or something,” each statement was more and more rocked with tears. _“I thou-thought if I liked girls, then I wouldn’t like Derek."__ For all of Stiles' life, he was only interested in Lydia and Malia. And this feeling? It was a wake up call to him, because he never gave it a second thought. All he knew was he loves Derek. And there should be nothing wrong with that, but for someone reason, his mind keeps telling him there's something wrong. No one questioned Stiles when he brought home Derek, everyone just sort of expected it. So what exactly is the problem? In all honesty, Stiles was just waiting for someone to tell him that he's just "confused." _ _

___The sheriff cringed in confusion, “Stiles, I know that, we know that. And I've already said it’s okay. You're already with Derek, it's not like you're not allowed in the house anymore... What makes you think you're still not?”_ _ _

___Stiles’ breath shook for a second as Noah waited for him to catch up to it. But instead, came a heartbreaking mutter, “Nobody ever punched someone for being straight.”  
___

_____ _

_____ _

___There were three conversations in Noah Stilinski and Stiles’ lives that made the sheriff tear up at just the reminder of it: when his mother was diagnosed, when the sheriff had to explain to his eight year old son why he wasn’t there with him when his mother passed in front of his own eyes, and the talk the two had when Stiles “couldn’t do it anymore” after the nogitsune. He can now add this to the list._ _ _

___Noah looked him straight in the eyes, “Stiles, don’t you ever think I will ever stop loving you because of who you choose to be with. Don’t ever think you are not welcome in this house. Okay? You don’t need to explain yourself to me, you don’t need to label yourself for me, but you _need_ to be comfortable with _yourself_.There are far worse things that have happened, and that you have _survived_.” His voice, like Derek’s, was firm now. “Don’t let an asshole kill you like this.”_ _ _

__Don’t let an asshole kill you like this._ _

___It rung in Stiles’ ear for the next few hours as he just layed in bed, disregarding the busy work he should’ve been catching up on._ _ _

___It took the young man too long to come to the realization that, frankly, and in all honesty, he _lucked the fuck out_ of life. To disregard all the supernatural shit for one second, and embrace the fact that the _only_ person in his life that has a problem with his sexual preference, wasn’t his friends. It wasn’t his father, someone who genuinely used to follow God’s words (but hasn’t since the death of his wife). _ _ _

___It was himself._ _ _

___And for what reason? For the reason that all his past relationships were a lie. For the reason that he had been denying himself for his entire life. For the reason that, if he decided to ever come out, he opens himself up to judgement and fear._ _ _

___For the reason that if he looks in the mirror, he won’t see the same Stiles Stilinski._ _ _

___It was when Stiles was changing into clothes after a shower that he realized nothing changed. Every freckle, every beauty mark, every hair strand was still there._ _ _


End file.
